


the way he shows i’m his

by pusa



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pusa/pseuds/pusa
Summary: red was ash’s favorite color, but, maybe, he’ll make an exception
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 25
Kudos: 200





	the way he shows i’m his

**Author's Note:**

> this fic probably doesnt make any snese and its unbetaed and im just in my feelings and this was supposed to be less than 1k but. oh well. i finished bf a couple of days ago and this is also inspired (greatly) by [this tumblr post](https://dreamasifyoullliveandloveforever.tumblr.com/post/122893829790/whoarei-she-guessed-my-favorite-color-first/amp) its everything to me

It wasn’t something too cliché, or maybe something too significant, or maybe something out of a fairytale. It was just—ordinary, simple, beautiful.

They were at their apartment, Ash going through his tablet, the screen softly making his headache ache more and more as he reads paragraphs upon paragraphs. Music plays somewhere. He looks up to see Eiji laying on the couch, going through his phone as he watches something on it, a smile forming. Ash smirks.

“Hey, old man,” he speaks and Eiji groans at him. “Can’t you play it a little louder, yeah?”

“Sorry,” Eiji snorts, “your old man can’t hear sometimes.”

Ash doesn’t bother in trying to stifle his short chuckle before he pauses and—actually looks at Eiji.

Eiji, with his blue phone case, wearing his oversized blue and red hoodie (isn’t it ash’s?) and black, plain pyjama bottoms. Ash can’t help but feel that Eiji belongs in this big, expensive apartment. (maybe not the world, not in ash’s world, never in his world.)

“Blue’s your favorite color.” He doesn’t say it like a question, yet as a statement and he belatedly realizes that he’s stating the obvious. He watches as Eiji’s cheeks push up into a small smile as he lets his phone fall onto his chest softly with a thud as he leans his head back to catch Ash’s eyes. Ash feels like he’s breathing for the first time again.

“Yeah!” Eiji giggles and sits up slightly, facing the other. His eyes are sparkling with wonder as his fists curl into the sleeves of his hoodie. Ash thinks he’s the prettiest. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Ash snorts then. “No, no, I was beginning to think your blue ensemble means something else.”

Eiji’s laugh, that was something Ash wouldn’t mind hearing forever.

Then, Eiji’s face beams and Ash raises a brow at him. “I’ll guess your favorite color! Let me!”

This time, Ash snorts and puts down the tablet gently onto his lap, raising a brow at him. “Guess?” he should be laughing. The number of red hoodies he has in his closet is already a huge hint. “All right, let’s see if you get it right.”

Eiji grins and Ash lets himself stare at Eiji—his rosy cheeks, his lips puffed into a pout as he looks at Ash, calculating like he’s a word puzzle he can’t solve. Ash thinks he is.

“Hm,” Eiji hums and Ash raises a brow in confusion. Is he serious?

He’s about to sigh off a _it’s red, old man_ when Eiji’s eyes widen and he jumps a little in his seat as he points at Ash triumphantly, “Yellow!”

Ash is speechless.

Eiji grins and says again, “It’s yellow! Your favorite color is yellow!”

Ash stares at Eiji then, silent and in love, as Eiji’s eyes sparkle, cheeks pushed up into a grin as he puts his hand down with a proud huff. Ash doesn’t have it in him to correct him.

“You got me,” he says softly then and Eiji’s eyes sparkle even more and Ash thinks if this is okay—if it’s okay to look at your friend and wish that kissing him was as easy as talking to him. “It’s yellow.”

“Aha!” Eiji laughs giddily and Ash doesn’t stop his grin as Eiji begins to lay back down on the couch again, already opening his phone. “I knew it! You’re definitely a yellow kind of guy.”

“Hm, yeah,” Ash says offhandedly and goes back to his tablet. He can’t help but wish that he had the confidence again to kiss Eiji.

Ash doesn’t know when red became his favorite color, when it started to corporate itself onto his daily clothes and knickknacks, but it did. And Ash doesn’t know if he loves the color red or if it’s just something he had to pick because everyone has a favorite color.

Ash doesn’t know if red became his favorite color because it resembles the color of the roses he used to stare at when he was a kid; Griffin’s enthusiastic voice telling him about roses and what they meant. Ash once pricked his finger on a thorn and cried about it for hours.

Ash doesn’t know if red became his favorite color because Shorter once had red hair, a bright orange-red that made him look like a tomato more than a strawberry like he was bragging about. Maybe watching Shorter pair it with other red garments sealed the deal for his favorite color.

Ash doesn’t know if red became his favorite color because of the sight of blood in his hands and knees and shoulders and shoes happened too much that red is the only thing he could see. Blood staining his clothes and his bathroom sink whenever he washes it off.

Ash doesn’t know when red became his favorite color, but he does know this: why yellow suddenly seems to be his.

The conversation passes and goes in Ash’s mind as the days pass, slipping in and out of their apartment, looking down at the busy street and small people scampering to wherever, sometimes, Eiji makes him a cup of tea.

(“Tea is good for you!” Eiji grins and hands him a small cup of green tea. Ash scrunches his nose in confusion.

“Oh, don’t look at it like that, you American,” Eiji sighs and takes a sip, sighing again but with content. “It’ll help you relax.”)

It happens for the first time when Ash is in the living room, going through chemicals and news sites and names and crimes, when the door opens and in comes Eiji with Kong and Bones, after their grocery trip.

Ash spares them a glance and rolls his eyes. “Had too much shopping, again, old man?”

“Oh, shut up,” Eiji reprimands him and smiles and talks softly to Kong and Bones on where to put the groceries. Ash hides his chuckle when they both eagerly nod, eyes sparkling at Eiji. “I buy all of these for _you_. You need to eat healthier.”

“Yes,” Ash whines out when there’s soft rustling from the kitchen and Eiji’s footsteps goes towards him. He looks up to see Eiji looking at him with a grin, holding something behind him. Ash raises a brow.

“What.”

Eiji’s grin turns into a pout and he glares at Ash. “Ungrateful,” he tuts, and Ash turns to him completely. “I brought you a gift and you treat me like this? Ah, I might just give it to Bones instead.”

“Eiji!” Bones’ voice echo from the kitchen and something flares a little inside Ash’s stomach.

“If it’s for me, give it to me,” Ash tries not to whine but Eiji grins mischievously. The rustling from the kitchen stops and Ash feels like throwing the two out.

“If you insist,” Eiji sighs and quickly, he moves his hands to the front and Ash blinks. It’s a mug. A yellow mug.

“Look!” Eiji excitedly says and Ash feels like he’s stopped breathing as he looks at the object in Eiji’s hands. It’s still wrapped up with bubble wrap and plastic, but Ash can still see the bright yellow color of the mug and the dark outline of a drawn puppy with words written above it. Ash softly takes it in his hands and Eiji leans closer to look at him reaction.

Ash hasn’t even barely taken off the wrap when Eiji speaks up again, excitement rolling off of him like waves. “It’s yellow! And it has a little puppy, he’s saying _good morning, start the day_!”

Ash lets out a laugh then and finishes unwrapping the mug and is pleasantly unsurprised to see the puppy on the mug, happily smiling at Ash. He can see Eiji’s grin aimed at him even when he doesn’t look at him. He gently runs his thumb over the dog print and looks at Eiji through his eyelashes with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Eiji,” it was the first gift he’s received that he’s truly liked. “I love it.”

Ash will never get over Eiji’s smile.

(Later, when it’s nearing midnight and Eiji makes hot cocoa, Ash tries not to think of Eiji’s favorite blue mug decorated with small paw prints next to Ash’s yellow dog-printed mug. He tries not to think too much and tries not to stare at Eiji’s sleepy eyes and puffy cheeks and pouty lips too much.)

And really, Ash shouldn’t even be surprised when yellow gifts and knickknacks occupy their living room every passing day, but it does. It does even when—

Ash comes home and finds yellow sticky notes at the kitchen countertop, late at night where Eiji’s sleeping in their room and there’s splatters of blood in his clothes and written at the very first page with Eiji’s scrawny handwriting _For you, Ash! For your investigations, partner!_

or when

Ash wakes up and softly pads to the kitchen to get some milk and blinks owlishly at the door of their refrigerator, yellow alphabets swimming in his eyesight before he blinks and reads **GOOD MORNING ASH** and he hears Eiji’s giggling behind him, asking him if he likes them and aren’t they so cute, Ash?

or when

They’re at a meeting with the gang and Ash is talking about routes and underground tunnels and trains and Eiji’s in front of him yet not, close yet too far, inside the gang circle yet hovering outside where Ash can barely see his mouth due to the people in front of him and Ash spares a glance at him at the same time Eiji fishes out his phone and the back of it is a flash of yellow and Ash feels his heart beat a little too loudly and for him to grip on the table a little too tightly

or when

They’re at the warehouse and Eiji is laughing softly under the yellow, fluorescent lights and his words are spoken softly to Kong and Bones and his eyes catches Ash’s and even through the ugly lighting, through the troubles and hurt, Eiji still looks so beautiful under the yellow light

or when

Eiji’s face is softly lit up by the yellow bonfire and he’s smiling like everything’s okay and he’s looking at Ash like he isn’t some monster and just some eighteen-year-old kid and the fire dancing in Eiji’s eyes makes Ash’s stomach whirl around like a tornado

or,

or even when

Ash’s staring at Eiji’s sleeping body in the hospital and there’s nothing yellow, there’s nothing happy about him being there and his fingers are itching to touch Eiji’s and his throat is clogging up and he can feel tears in his eyes as he softly says _sayonara_ (still, still, his last words to him, just like in the warehouse) and walks away and feels black and red

or when

Eiji’s staring at him with tearful eyes and there’s nothing yellow about it all and he didn’t even get to touch Eiji’s hands for the last time and Charlie and the others are running towards him and Eiji’s screaming at him to leave and to _let him go_ and there’s nothing yellow and poetic about Eiji screaming on the floor with tears in his eyes as Ash leaves him there, running as the wind whips at his tear-ridden cheeks

or when

There is nothing yellow in the angry flames below him as relief softly and slowly settles onto his chest and all he can think about is _eiji, eiji, eiji, eiji_

( _where are you, i need you, i love you, i love you, i love you_ )

and there’s the voice in his head to leave him be and to let him leave and there’s the ache in his chest as he stares at the angry oranges and reds and blacks as smoke fills his lungs and all he can think about is the sunlight in Eiji’s face and the softness of his cheek

There is nothing yellow about the yellow walls and book pages of the library as Ash clutches at Eiji’s letter and his stomach is screaming at him to _go go go_ and to leave but a smile graces his lips as he runs his blood-stained fingers over the familiar letters and words.

Yellow is not the same without Eiji.

(yellow also isn’t the same without ash)

You can never love another.

This is what Eiji realizes.

“Hey, Eiji,” his sister, Kaori, mumbles to him, late at night, laying on his bed as he goes through his camera at his desk. His room wasn’t that big to occupy much besides his bed, closet, and desk. Kaori’s voice was more of a regular tone than a mumble.

It’s been two weeks since he came to Japan.

“Hm?” Eiji hums, going through photos upon photos of New York’s skyline.

“What happened in America?”

He stops at a photo of the public library; one he took when the sun was just starting to set, and the sun’s rays were just hitting the building at the perfect spot. It’s one of Eiji’s favorite photos. Huh. Maybe the universe really was just playing a huge joke on him.

“Nothing much,” it’s hard to lie to your sister. “Ibe and I just had troubles, but we got through it.”

“Troubles that took you almost two years?”

Eiji manages a small chuckle as he turns his head to look at Kaori, who was already looking at him, hugging a pillow. “Yes,” he confirms for her and turns back to his camera. “We just had some troubles, Kaori.”

“Hm,” Kaori hums and Eiji clicks next to see a photo of Kong and Bones on Halloween.

“Huh,” Eiji mumbles and lets himself smile at the photo. There’s an ache in his chest that didn’t really leave but it comes back again and again, a slow yet heavy tornado swirling everywhere inside of him.

“I’m glad you’re home, though,” Kaori then says after a while of silence. Eiji looks behind him to see Kaori standing by his door, looking at him with sadness and uncertainty in her face. She wasn’t really good in hiding her emotions.

“Goodnight, Kaori,” Eiji says instead, heart clenching a bit too much at the word home.

Home. Huh.

Eiji doesn’t like he’s at home, even though maybe he should.

Home hasn’t felt like home in a long time.

No one really taught Eiji how to—how to—what?

(move on? grieve? forget? forgive?)

But he’s trying, if he’s lying.

(he really isn’t)

He’s long since accepted to accept everything that’s happened. Ibe stills calls him every day, voice soft and comforting even through everything. Sometimes, Sing e-mails him because he’s just like that, Eiji thinks. He doesn’t mention anyone and anything, just asks Eiji how he’s been and how Chinatown is going and what he’s been doing the past few days.

( _how are you? i hope you’re feeling okay! chinatown’s been really peaceful, i really love it. yut-lung is surprisingly nice and cooperative and i feel like you’ll like him if the universe was different. i hope you’re doing okay, eiji. we miss you every day. and by the way, i’ve been trying to cook more and helping nadia in the kitchen. do you know how easy cooking fried rice actually is?! i’ll send you a recipe i’ve been following, eiji!!!!_ )

Sometimes (most times), Eiji goes by the local grocery and buys stuff for two instead of one and catches himself staring at yellow—anything. His heart still thumps against his chest like it’s trying to get out and jump against the walls and it makes Eiji feel like puking.

Sometimes (most times), Eiji looks at the sunset sky and feels like he isn’t really there.

The thing about sunsets and sunrises is this:

Well. There really isn’t anything poetic and beautiful about anything when you are in a place that doesn’t seem at all there and home doesn’t feel like home.

Anything doesn’t feel like anything anymore.

Maybe let’s rephrase it like this:

There is something in watching the sunsets and the sunrises with someone you consider as home. There is something in the way his eyes sparkle in the soft sunlight as he smiles at you, hands cupped around the mug. There is something in the way his hands find yours and blood smears against both of your hands and there is something in the way his hands cradle yours.

Falling in love is supposed to happen once.

Eiji Okumura falls in love again when he’s going through his morning jog at 5:55 am and his breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes meet green ones and there’s a thump in his chest and his brain is screaming at him and his legs beg for him to run away.

(ghosts aren’t supposed to be real, right?)

The brown trench coat was probably Eiji’s favorite clothing of his.

“Eiji,” Ash breathes out and pinks and yellow envelope his face and it feels like America all over again.

His eyes are sparkling yet there’s still the certain darkness Eiji has grown to love. His hair is longer, framing his face in a different yet somehow familiar way that Eiji remembers and loves. He’s grown even a little taller.

“You’re taller,” is the first thing Eiji blurts out and Ash stares at him in shock. The sun slowly rises and maybe, Eiji’s hope too.

Ash smiles then and walks closer to him, and Eiji’s hands are shaking beside him and Ash looks at them in concern. Eiji holds them out for him. _Hold it_ , he thinks, a little desperately, _hold it and make me realize this is a dream all along, hold my hands and let me feel nothing and let me open my eyes and I’m back in my bedroom and—_

Ash holds his hands, palms sweaty yet cold, shaking as he engulfs them entirely.

Eiji lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m taller,” Ash breathes out then with a grin and Eiji feels it then—the ache in his chest and the screaming in his throat as his lips shake into a whimper. “I’m taller, your hair is longer, and I’m in Japan and I’m still in love with you.”

The wind breezes between them like children playing in the park and Eiji’s tears are cold and salty against his cheeks and lips. He licks his lips and blinks rapidly as the sky behind Ash softly transforms into an orange-y yellow.

“You’re still in love with me?” Eiji whispers out then, leaning even closer and his hands are shaking and warm against Ash’s and there’s a longingness in the way Ash looks at him. He thinks he looks the same way at Ash.

“I wouldn’t have come here if I weren’t,” Ash mumbles and then, Eiji giggles and he still feels like he’s about to wake up from a dream.

“I love you,” he says then and steps closer and closer and maybe he should be annoyed at the way Ash slightly leans down to touch his forehead against his but his heart just jumps around his chest and he softly closes his eyes, a soft laugh leaving his lips. “I love you; I love you; I love you—”

He gets cut off as hands wrap around his waist and he lets out a laugh, Ash burying his face onto his neck with a sniffle as he leans up into his tiptoes. Eiji doesn’t stop himself from letting out a small laugh as his hands wrap impossibly tighter against Ash and there’s sniffles and gasps from the other but all he can think about is that, maybe, after all these time, he’s finally home.

Ash doesn’t know why red was his favorite color when yellow was right here; yellow on his nails whenever Eiji’s sister paints them; yellow on the little notebook he keeps for his thoughts; the yellow of the sunlight when it hits Eiji’s eyes in the perfect way; yellow wrapped around him in the form of hoodies; yellow upon yellow of mugs.

Ash doesn’t know when exactly he started favoring yellow, but he can practically live in it now.

**Author's Note:**

> congrats for making it 2 th end.. i honestly dont know what this is but dont hesitate to leave comments n kudos <3 here's [my twitter](https://twitter.com/eikumura) please talk to me about banana fish i Need it i think


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